


The Lord's Day

by zuiderswag



Category: Warrior Nun (TV)
Genre: A little angst?, Denial of Feelings, F/F, Feelings, General nun activities, LOTS of pining probably, Mutual Pining, Pining, a little fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26273119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zuiderswag/pseuds/zuiderswag
Summary: I was really nervous to post this as it is my first fan fiction since I stopped writing about 6 years ago. If you could be so kind as to let me know what you think, I will be eternally grateful. I hope I still ''got it''I'm thinking of making this a small series of Sunday afternoon escapades and moments. Then again maybe not. As I've just started writing again I am not sure what to expect of myself, but the ambition is there. TL;DR bear with me
Relationships: Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva
Comments: 11
Kudos: 89





	The Lord's Day

It's a Sunday afternoon. The Lord's day. You'd think working for a sacred order would mean you'd have the day off, but the OCS doesn't work that way. Commitment never stops. Discipline never stops. And if you really think about it, evil doesn't just stop for the weekend, too. Every moment the Sister Warriors aren't working towards ending the cycle of death, is a moment wasted. That responsibility alone is a heavy burden to bear. And every Sister Warrior bears it in her own way.

For Beatrice, it means preparation. Burying herself in her research, making sure that she can supply her team with whatever they need. She's been holed up in the library for what feels like an eternity. Her desk is stuffed to the brim. Scattered across the old oak surface are ancient maps of pathways untraveled for many years, yellowed parchment papers, sacred drawings and so many books that you wonder how her petite frame ever carried them all. 

Beatrice is sure that there _has_ to be something they missed about Adriel and the Halo. A hint buried in some stowed-away, forgotten journal - a clue that would give the team something tangible to form a plan on. 

So she's been bent over her desk for many a day, relying on Camila or Lilith to drag her away for a meal and some sleep from time to time. But they mostly leave Beatrice be. They know that she's only being reclusive to support the OCS. To support the people she cares about.

It's a Sunday afternoon and it's a scorcher. Cat's Cradle has been basking in the summer sun all day, soaking up every bit of heat like a hungry demon. The air is dry and hot and it weighs down on the premises like a thick blanket. It's no weather to be outside. And yet Beatrice longs for a ray of sun. For a breeze, for just a moment to take a break and breathe. 

But discipline never stops.

Still, today, that discipline is nowhere to be found. Beatrice absentmindedly watches the dust swirl around in the dim light of her candle. Its flame flickers, shadows playing on the stack of books behind it. Beatrice can't really remember how she lost track of her reading, but the Latin in the margins of the manuscript before her is getting blurry and she can't pull her focus back. 

She keeps thinking about the myriad of problems she and the Sister Warriors have yet to face. Beatrice's mind starts to wander towards their current predicament. Suddenly, a feeling of utter dread sets in the pit of her stomach. To have such young women save the world. What a grotesquely unjust plan. How unfair that Cardinal Duretti keeps playing everyone like a puppet from his comfortable seat in the Vatican while his nuns lose lives to rescue others. Of course, serving the OCS is a divine duty and it comes supplied with risks. That much is known. And every Sister Warrior is willing to sacrifice themselves for the greater good, even if that's a bitter truth to accept. But to be left so alone, no help in sight save the recent arrival of the Halo Bearer... 

The black hole of dread in Beatrice's stomach grows. The anxiety, the anger, fear and helplessness slowly rips its way up her throat. She tries to swallow it down. To not give the beast any attention but that only lasts for a while, usually. Then it begins again, and sometimes she can't stop the overwhelming pressure from clawing her apart from inside. 

Beatrice feels a slight panic grip around her lungs like a vice, and she buries her face in her hands, doing her best to shake the self destructive thoughts. Beatrice takes a few shaky breaths. She closes her bleary eyes and relaxes her face for a moment. Her eyebrows unknot from a frown she didn't know she had. The panic slowly subsides, but only just enough to bubble beneath the surface, ready to strike again.

It's hard for Beatrice to be like this. She has the annoying habit of always finding the calm logic in everything. To see opportunities and chances where others only see challenges. But this time around, even Beatrice is struggling. And that, perhaps, worries her more than anything else.

She looks up again, a wet sheen in her eyes glistening in the candlelight. She stares at the manuscript again, forgetting where she had stopped in mid-translation. Her eyes fumble along the page, furiously blinking her to-be tears away. Just before she's ready to dive into the pages again, she hears lithe and enthusiastic footsteps approaching her.

"Yes, Camila, I know." Beatrice sighs, her tone a little curt, "I've missed supper again but I'm truly close to something here-" 

As Beatrice turns around in her chair, she's a little surprised to find Ava standing in front of her. "Oh, Ava. Hello."

"Hey."

Beatrice would've lied if she said her stomach didn't do a somersault at the sight of Ava. 

Ava's obviously just finished with a combat skills training - she's still panting a little, pink lips beautifully parted. A sheen of sweat is visible on her forehead. Down the side of her neck, a bead slowly trickles across her skin. It dips down the subtle slope of her collarbone, continuing its descent further down her cleavage. Beatrice catches herself staring too long and she shifts her gaze back to Ava's face. She pretends not to notice her heartbeat pounding in her eardrums.

Seeing Ava like this is truly something and Beatrice isn't sure how to deal with it. But Ava's appearance and the whirlwind of feeling it brings sure is a pleasant change from uneasy thoughts she had moments before.

"Camila already knew you were suspecting her to come get you. So, uh, she sent me." the brunette trails on, flashing Beatrice a sheepish smile.

Ava rocks back and forth on her heels. Not exactly having prepared a way to effectively draw Beatrice away from her research, she just gives the bookish nun two finger guns, "Sooo, let's go? We gotta get you something to eat dude. The last time you had something was at breakfast. That big brain of yours also needs big nutrition, you know."

"Thank you, Ava. But like I said, I think I'm on the verge of something really useful-" 

Beatrice tries again, but it's clear that Camila has given Ava strict instructions not to take no for an answer. She huffs, taking a faux defensive stance, one hand on her hip and the other pointing towards Beatrice, "Bea, I'm sorry, but the ol' books are going to have to wait! The world can't be saved if the mastermind behind it all dies of starvation now, can it?"

This time, Beatrice can't help but stifle a half smile. She knows Ava's and Camila's intentions are good, but she doesn't need to be babied.

"I won't die of starvation," she replies. She shoots Ava a fond yet stern look, "I will be fine. If you just let me finish this section, then I'll come down for supper, okay?"

"No can do, sister." 

"Excuse me?" Beatrice tilts her head a little, frowning quizzically. She shifts in her seat, resting her elbow on the back of her chair and putting two fingers against her temple. 

Ava's still in her stance, though her arms are folded in front of her chest now. There is a determined yet playful twinkle in her eyes. That, and the crooked grin that's tugging at Ava's lips is stirring something deep inside Beatrice, something that pulls longingly at the center of her abdomen. Something that makes her heart leap against her rib cage.

"I said no can do! So help me god - uh, sorry, big guy - I will pick you up and drag you down to the dining hall if I have to. I am not leaving until you get some food in that pretty face of yours."

Beatrice finally caves in a little and laughs at the sentiment, though she has to muster all her willpower not to envision being swooped up in Ava's strong arms. She swallows the thick pull of attraction that's gathered at the base of her throat. Still, the urge to finish her translation is bigger than the urge to say yes to Ava's attempts, which surprises her. She moves back to a normal seating position.

"First of all," Beatrice replies, "You assume you can wrestle me down, beat me in combat, and then drag me off which is a bold statement to begin with. Second-"

A loud growl erupts from Beatrice's stomach. The sounds is so violent and so sudden that it grinds the entire conversation to a halt.

Beatrice promptly puts a hand over her belly as to make her insides shut up. She then looks back at Ava, who is just barely keeping her composure.

Ava's lips are trembling with withheld laughter and her eyebrows are raised to a comical degree. For a short moment, the two just look at each other wordlessly. All the while, Beatrice feels a shameful blush prickle its way across her cheeks. Then, Ava bursts into a fit of giggles. She buckles over, clutching her sides as the laughter rumbles through her. Her bubbly laugh fills the room and it makes Beatrice's knees go weak. She would have enjoyed sitting here and reveling in the sound if she wasn't the butt of the joke.

"Ava!" Beatrice calls, half scolding, half laughing herself, "It is not nice to laugh at people!"

"Wow, Bea! I'm - wow, I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to laugh. It wasn't really funny either, but hey, a joke's all in the timing, right? And boy, did you nail that!" Ava's laughter is subsiding, though it is now replaced with a smug grin curling around her lips, "But yes, I'm now _very_ convinced you aren't hungry. So I'll leave you to your translation."

And with that, Ava pivots on her heels and begins to walk away.

Ava is almost at the door when Beatrice lets out an uncharacteristic groan that stops Ava in her tracks, "Alright. You're right, I am hungry. I'll come and eat something."

"Did I just really hear Big Brain Beatrice admit I am right? And I didn't even have to fight you for it!" Ava is all smiles when she hurries back to Beatrice's desk. The Halo Bearer loops her arm through Beatrice's as she gets up, and they walk out of the library together. Ava pulls her close and the heady scent of post-work out Ava makes Beatrice pleasantly dizzy.

"Careful. You are really pushing your limits here, Ava." Beatrice says, giving the brunette a playful push.

"Honestly, I'm just glad I got you to come with me. Although, I'm not really sure why Camila sent me and not Lilith. I mean, I know I'm way more _charming_ but she's _way_ scarier, and personally I think a good threat is a great negotiating tool." 

_Because you could make me do anything_ , Beatrice thinks, not letting the words accidentally tumble past her lips. She just smiles, letting Ava ramble on as they walk down the stairway.

Sure, Ava is a little brash and stubborn at times. And a little insensitive, perhaps. But she means well. Beatrice is sure of it. And most importantly, Beatrice can see a steady change happening in her. She sees that Ava's _trying_. She is trying to be more focused, to be more involved, to be better. To stay. There is an unlit fire behind her eyes, like a smoldering ember just waiting to ignite. That fire, that change, gives Beatrice hope to believe that Ava is their only way out.

If anyone, Ava is only one - the only Halo Bearer that _can_ win their battle. And that realization makes Beatrice's worries not weigh as heavy anymore.

It also makes Beatrice feel a whole array of other emotions she'd spent years trying to suppress. But she isn't quite ready to address those. Not yet. For now, she allows herself to just briefly enjoy the warmth of Ava's body next to hers, even for just a moment. To just savor _not_ thinking about the looming threat of evil. Even if it's no good for her. Save the world first, personal problems later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really nervous to post this as it is my first fan fiction since I stopped writing about 6 years ago. If you could be so kind as to let me know what you think, I will be eternally grateful. I hope I still ''got it''
> 
> I'm thinking of making this a small series of Sunday afternoon escapades and moments. Then again maybe not. As I've just started writing again I am not sure what to expect of myself, but the ambition is there. TL;DR bear with me


End file.
